Titanic: The wrong way round:

Jack Dawson's point of view:

Ugh! Was all I could think when looking the ship.

If you asked anyone else what they thought of the Titanic they would simply reply: "It's the ship of dreams" then start babbling some nonsense about how it was the most luxurious ship in the world. But if you asked me I would say that it was nothing but a slave ship, dragging me back to America where I would be forced to marry a woman I'd met only three times.

Carey was beautiful. Very, very beautiful and also very, very rich. So, she was exactly the type of woman my mother would have me marry, even though she knew I could never be happy with her. I had only met her three times and I already knew that she was a conceited snob who was addicted to looking in the mirror.

Who knows, maybe we would bond on the ship. I don't know what we would bond over; we didn't share any interests. She was happy with the same old parties and dull chit chat, whereas I wanted to go to Paris and sell my art work. I longed to meet new people, not just the first class snobs. I wanted to see the world, do new things. I hated waking up every morning knowing what was going to happen.

"Oh" my mother gasped, while looking out the car window at the ship.

"Really mother, it's just a boat" I said.

"It's not just any boat" Carey pitched in. "It's the biggest, most luxurious ship in the entire world and lets not forget its unsinkable!"

Here we go.

We got out of the car and I pretended to listen to mother and Carey prattle about how great the Titanic was. Before, we knew it we were on the ship, being greeted by Mr. Lovejoy, Carey's father.

"Hello, Carey my dear" he greeted his daughter warmly. "Mrs. Dawson"

Then he turned to me.

"Mr. Dawson" he said his voice stiff and cold.

Another reason Carey and I were an impossible match; her father loathed me with passion.

"Hello sir" I said, cowering under his icy glare.

We made our way to the dining room, where we were soon met by Molly Brown. I liked Molly, she wasn't vain like the other rich folk and of course she wasn't born rich. She was the daughter of Irish immigrants and she always had a smile on her face.

After diner all the men except for me retired to the smoking room. When asked if I should care to join them I replied no and that I was going to bed. This was a lie. If I was going to smoke I was going to do it alone.

I lay on my back on a bench, smoking a cigarette, looking up at stars.

I'm going to have to marry Carey when I get home I thought. Please god, send me a miracle.

Just then a girl with long curly red hair ran past me, crying.